


Assassin at Heart

by AllannaStone



Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed AU - Fandom
Genre: AU, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Self-Discovery, assassim princess, dyspopia, nothing is forbidden everything is permitted, orphaned assassin, princess eletive, surogate family, undercover assassin, unknown parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllannaStone/pseuds/AllannaStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This country was once the greatest in the world. Now, it's a crumbling, decaying wasteland ran by the corrupted."</p><p>As the youngest and only girl within the elite Brotherhood of the Assassin, Ecatherina Harper takes her missions very seriously. So when fate's bolt strikes her, she finds herself selected as the princess elective, the assassin quickly finds herself being swept up into delicate political matters while trying to decipher who is to be trusted.</p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ecatherina

A hooded shadow flitted across the streets of the slowly darkening city.

No one paid the mysterious person a mind as shops were closed and children were ushered inside for supper and bed.

The child sized person ran from an alley, scaled a brick wall and jumped to and from several rooftops before arriving at a certain abandoned apartment complex. Signs were hung all around the desolated property, false warnings to ward off trespassers, vandals and graffiti artists. The words had been in vain, for much of the buildings were covered in spray paint taggings and the ground was littered with spent cigarette butts, empty cans and bottles and random pieces of trash.

The runner passed under a flickering street light, offering only a second's worth of light to bathe the figure before vanishing, seemingly into the shadows. Whoever this person was, they knew how to use the shadows and to cover their tracks, making it so that if anyone spotted a glimpse, it would be assumed to be the imagination at work again.

But alas, this young person was anything unlike what could be conjured up with only the mind.

The hooded ghost, for that was what would've crossed anyone's mind with the silent way of walking, quickly made its way inside the building, where it faced what appeared to be a boarded up pathway.

"Snow bunny," spoke the hooded figure in a soft, yet clear voice.

Shuffles could be heard on the other side of the door.

"Open up, open up…" grumbled one man as the boards were opened, much like a door and in slipped the person, pulling down the hood to reveal a young teenage girl.

She was petite, standing south of five feet, however due to confidence that seemed to radiate off her, she appeared to be much taller. She had black hair that was tied out of her sapphire blue eyes in a tight, controlling French braid, and when she moved, streaks of red and blue could be seen as her braid swayed with her slim hips. She was fair skinned and had a light dusting or orange-red freckles which crossed over her nose and spilled onto both cheeks.

"Back it up, won't you? Show some respect!" snapped another man, this one nodding a hello at the newcomer, who was shedding her gloves and waved in response.

She quickly made her way through the maze of corridors, all carefully set up to confuse anyone who made it past their façade of a front door, before coming to a set of stairs, which she bounded up without so much as a second thought, before arriving at the top, which was a spacious room with all the walls knocked down.

"I apologize for running behind on schedule, master," she greeted the man who was in the room, dropping to one knee and placing her fist over her heart, a sign of uttermost respect in the brotherhood. "But a situation arised and my aid was required."

The man, otherwise known as Xavior, chuckled deep within his chest and crossed the room to stand in front of the youngest member of the brotherhood.

She is still very much a child in too many ways,he had thought time and time again. But instead of casting her out of the streets as other would have done, he had bought her in under his own roof, fed her, clothed her, nurtured her, taught her letters and numbers.

Instructed her tools of the trade.

At age seventeen, she was a force to be reckoned with whenever angered, which was (thankfully) rarely.

"At ease, Ecatherina," his voice rumbled, making the tense girl relax some as she stood and smiled for the first time since her last mission was completed, a mere week and a half ago.

He noticed her eyes flitting about the room, taking note of what would make a weapon and escape routes to take in case things got too ugly for her to handle, one of the very first things her had taught her upon rescuing her from a fate on the streets, selling her body for other's pleasure when she was old enough.

Xavior had treated her as though she were his own flesh and blood, and in return she loved his as a daughter would love her father. And the others in the brotherhood were surrogate uncles and brothers to her.

Everyone except for Cole Greyson.

Xavior had a sneaking suspicion that the two assassins liked each other as more than just friends. While he had no concrete physical proof (as of yet anyways) he would sometimes catch them smiling at each other or meeting gazes before quickly glancing away again, and on more than one occasion he had witnesses Cole tucking Ecatherina's runaway curls back behind her ear, always being gentle with her, not because she was the only female in the brotherhood, but because she was could kill him armed only with a bobby pin and a pencil sharpener. And likewise, Ecatherina seemed to seize every opportunity to be close to the handsome and deadly assassin.

Xavior smiled fondly as the other members of the brotherhood shuffled into the room.

Brandan, with his quiet demeanor and dramatic way of handling his twin katana swords.

Coopur, with his sharp tongue and deadly accuracy at using the body's pressure points to bring down any foe.

Rian, with his quick wits and even quicker throwing knives, which could pin his target to the wall so that he could kill up close and personal.

Petre, with his sarcastic words but casual brass knuckles that could bash in someone's skull.

Arron, with his snapping grey eyes and cracking whip which could inflict terrifying damage with only a small flick of the wrist.

Cole, with his moldering blue-grey eyes and close combat knives.

There had once been others, but they were now, sadly, deceased- missions gone wrong. Now only the small group of assassins had dwindled down to eight members.

Xavior stood from his crouch, where he had been examining his adopted daughter and the quiet chatter went mute in respect for the elder assassin.

"Tomorrow," he spoke clearly. "Tomorrow, the princess elective will be selected, and Ecatherina's sole job will be to determine if she is on our side… or not."

The girl squirmed uncomfortably where she stood. She had been selected to present herself in front of the king as a candidate for the coveted position. Cole gently squeezed her hand as Xavior gave out positions to the other assassins, seeming to have picked up on her nervousness.

He leaned into close to her ear and whispered, "Don't draw any attention to yourself and you'll be fine."

The girl smiled at him before they dropped their hands and squared their gazes onto their leader.


	2. Meeting the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ecatherina meets the king in disguise

Ecatherina fidgeted with the full skirts of her least tattered dress before leaving the brotherhood's secret headquarters. She had shed her usual uniform of broken in boots and hood for a plain, faded blue dress with black boots and a dagger hidden in the small of her back. Her unruly mane of untamable curls were tied back in a strict French Braid which left no chance for escape. Ecatherina felt naked as she marched towards the palace gates with her invitation clutch tightly in her hands- she couldn't recall a time when she had dared to venture from the apartment complex without her usual weapons strapped to her body.

After flashing the invitation at the palace guards, who stepped aside to allow her to enter, Ecatherina was met by the sight of pretty young ladies flitting about with fans and parasols in hand as they chatted up the competition, looking for weak spots to use for their own advantage.

The petite seventeen year old slipped in unnoticed and made a beeline for the gardens, her favorite part of the grand palace. She had often times snuck inside the walls of the palace just to unwind and relax from the ever demanding life of being an assassin.

She sat down on a bench, looking like she was lost inside her own world, when in reality, she was checking for possible weapons and an escape route that would whisk her away from danger if needed. The only other person who was around was an elderly gardener, who was busy pruning a rose bush. The assassin could tell that he was glancing her over,probably curious as to what a lower class commoner was doing inside the wall of the royal palace, she thought wryly.

After sitting there for a few minutes, she stood and approached the gardener, who wore a wide brimmed floppy hat that covered his face.

"Is there something on my dress?" she asked, brushing off invisible dirt on her skirt and trying to decipher his movements.

"You look lovely today, miss," he answered, sitting back and wiping his face with a handkerchief which bore the royal monogram.

"Thank you kindly, your majesty," Ecatherina bobbed an awkward bow to him.

"How did you figure out who I am?" chortled the king, standing and removing his hat to examine the girl standing before him.

"Your handkerchief," she smiled crookedly at him. "Only the royal family can have them in their procession."

The king glanced down at the handkerchief and sighed heavily, tucking it into his pocket.

"I knew I was forgetting something important," he mumbled before straightening up. "Would you care to take a stroll with me?"

"If it is what you would like me to do," she answered, accepting his arm as they began to stroll amongst the blooms and trees. "Might I ask you a question?"

"You already did," chuckled the king. "But you may ask another one."

"You disguised yourself to see if any of the ladies in the courtyard would be kind to a lowly gardener, am I not correct?" Ecatherina pressed gently.

"My, my, aren't you a clever one?" chuckled the king.

"I grew up on the streets; I need to be observant in order to have survived this long," she shrugged causally, the half lie rolling off her tongue with ease. "But I try and live honestly by working odd jobs for food and shelter," she added in after a few moments of silence from the older man.

"What kind of jobs, if you don't mind me asking?" the king inquired with curiosity.

"Sweeping out shops when it closing time, folding laundry and running errands mostly," she answered vaguely, not wanting to give him too much in case he sent palace guards out to search for her. She did indeed do these things when she was younger, before she met Xavior and was adopted at the tender age of six.

"Has life gotten any easier for you?" the king dared to ask.

"Somewhat." Here, she was certain to give as blunt an edge to her voice as possible, letting the king know that she was done discussing the subject. "I know my letters and I know my basic numbers- that's all I ever need to know to get by."

"Have you a favorite book?" the king asked her as they passed by a giant apple tree.

Ecatherina jumped up and grabbed an apple before taking a giant bite of it as she mulled her answer through.

"I really enjoy Nancy Drew," she answered casually after swallowing. "I mostly read on a grade school level, though I would like to be able to read more books written on a more adult level one day."

The assassin and the king continue to chit chat as they wandered all about the gardens, eventually ending up back in the courtyard, where the king smiled and bow Ecatherina off.

"Do tell me your name," the king said.

"Ecatherina," she answered with a soft smile before vanishing in the throng of ladies.

I don't imagine me becoming the princess elective, she mused as she wandered over to where the large wrought iron gates stood, protecting the fine mannered ladies from the commoners.

Ecatherina felt her stomach drop as a little girl with an elderly woman leaned up against the gates. The child clutch as a ratty doll and the woman wore a faded scarf over her patchwork dress.

"Wait here," Ecatherina ordered them in a soft voice before darting off to the food table, where to the horror of the snotty ladies, she grabbed an entire loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, some meat and a little cake before returning to the homeless child and woman. "Here."

The child all but inhaled her food, lighting up with the assassin handed her the cake.

"Thank you, dear child," the woman smiled at her before taking a bite of bread.

Ecatherina smiled at them before tittering and mutters met her well trained ears. She slowly turned her head and saw that the other ladies were staring at her.

"Oh my! Feeding those filthy commoners!" sniffed one lady.

"Who invited this little urchin inside the palace walls?" sneered another, smacking the girl on the arm with a closed fan.

Ecatherina flinched at the unexpected blow, but stood her ground. As the lady raised her hand 1

She grabbed the lady by the wrist and stepped in between her feet, twisted her body and sent her assaulter tumbling onto the ground. It was a simple maneuver- one of the firsts she was taught when she joined the brotherhood. She pivoted on her heel and marched out of the courtyard, barley even out of breath after completing the counterattack and left the ground of the palace.

The king witnessed all of this and he was greatly impressed by Ecatherina's fearlessness.

He approached the chamber master and tapped him on the shoulder before whispering into his ear.


	3. The Selection of the Princess Eletive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ecatherina learns who the princess elective is

Ecatherina slipped out onto the streets just as it began to rain. She stepped out from the shadows and watched as people scurried inside for protection again the water droplets.

She smiled as she flung her arms out and spun around in several dizzying circles.

"When it rains, I feel free at last…" she sang, giggling as she continued her trek back to the abandoned apartment complex which she called home.

She was suddenly aware of the fact that there were two palace guards following her. She darted into an alleyway and scaled the wall before ending up on the roof, where she began to jump from rooftop to rooftop, enjoying the feeling of flying before she arrived at the apartment complex.

She entered and before she even had a chance to utter her passkey, the door was flung open and she was ushering inside. Ecatherina was hustled into a steaming hot bath, which helped banish the chill that had creeped into her bones. After she had dried off, she could be found sitting in the makeshift kitchen with a mug of warm water with lemon clutched in her hands. She was dressed in warm flannels that were too big on her and the sleeves and pant cuffs had to be rolled up several times to accommodate her tiny hands and feet.

"How did it go, Braids?" Xavior asked, tugging gently at her freshly braided curls.

Ecatherina shrugged, keeping her focus on her drink that was warming her hands.

"That bad, huh?" chuckled the leader, standing. "I need to weed through the ocean of paperwork in my office- dear Lord, that'll probably take all night…"

"Good night, Xavior," Ecatherina smiled at him tiredly before taking a sip of her drink.

Her sharp nose picked up the faint scent of masculinity- cedar wood shavings and pine cones and without even turning, greeted Cole.

"Hey," he returned the greeting, wrapping his strong arms loosely around her shoulders.

"Hey yourself, ranger," she teased him with a yawn, setting her empty mug onto the dining table to rub sleepily at her eyes. She suddenly found herself cradled in Cole's arms as he stomped up the stairs towards his room.

"Sleep, Ecatherina," his gruff voice rumbled and that was all that she needed to nod off.

~xoXox~

The next morning, Ecatherina could be found in one of the training arenas, practicing using her many throwing knives by spinning around, unsheathing a knife and hurling the deadly weapon at one of many targets scattered around the room.

This was where Rian found her.

"Hey," he greeted her with a lazy smirk, sidling up to her as he took out his own collection of throwing knives and adding his skills to the dummies, which were already past the point of dead with the many knives that stuck out of them at various parts of their bodies.

Ecatherina only grunted in response before her cell phone cackled. She checked the caller ID and her face developed a half smirk, half frown as she jogged over to the dummies and began to remove her knives from their torsos and heads.

"That's Xavior, he wants our asses up in his office ASAP," she informed Rian, who nodded and quickly gathered his weapon of choice before bolting out the door with the seventeen year old assassin close on his heels. When they reached the office, they both found themselves surrounded by the rest of the team and settled in as Xavior stood to speak.

"The king has chosen who the princess elective is to be," he announced in a booming voice that reached all ears. "He has asked that all the ladies who attended the court testing yesterday return to the palace courtyard to meet the princess."

Ecatherina huffed in annoyance.

"I'm not going back," she announced in a ringing voice. "Those pampered brats will skin me alive!"

Everyone else chuckled at her dramatics.

"Ecatherina, you have no choice- the king decreed it just thirty minutes ago," Xavior said. "You will act as our spy and relay all that happens inside the walls of the palace."

She groaned as she turned to dress herself in the same dress she wore the day before. She knew that Cole was tailing her as she made her way up to her bedroom, where she found her clothes awaiting her.

She sighed as she shimmied out of her tank top and sweatpants, not caring if Cole saw her naked- he'd seen her naked hundreds of times before so why should she give a damn if he saw her in her birthday suit?

She jumped as Cole spooned her into his body, where she automatically found herself relaxing and nestled into his firm body more.

"You do know that I love you, don't you?" he rumbled softly into her ear.

"You always seize every opportunity you have to show me how much you love me," she whispered huskily before stepping away and quickly slithering into her dress. She left quickly after that, her boots in one hand and palming a sleek fighting dagger as she trotted down the stairs. She slipped the sharp weapon into a hidden sheath in the small of her back as she hopped her way into her boots and grabbed her sun hat from the coat rack in the "front hallway". Within moments, she found herself being herded along as the poorer citizens bustled on their way to the palace to hopefully catch a glimpse of the princess elective.

Ecatherina carefully arranged her face so that it would appear to others that she was daydreaming as she skipped merrily along the busy streets. She narrowly avoided being trampled by a horse drawn carriage where the driver was too intent on reaching his destination, resulting in the female assassin getting splattered with mud.

She reached the gates of the palace twenty minutes later, where she needed only wave her invitation at the guards before being ushered inside. Once she was among the elite, Ecatherina found herself being snubbed by the richly dressed aristocrats. On the outside, the girl appeared to not be miffed by the fine ladies' rudeness, but inside, she was secretly putting together a hit list.

First to go will the snobby Duchess of Falenburg, followed by the bratty Lady of Polen, she thought all the while maintaining a natural face. And then next to be knocked off will be the selfish Countess of Daslens.

While she was deep in thought, the king appeared on stage, followed closely by his chamber master, making all the ladies dip down into low curtsies. She zoned out at his speech as he welcomed everyone for attending the impromptu announcement.

But what caught Ecatherina's ears were these words.

"… and now, it is great pleasure and honor to introduce to you all, the princess elective, Ecatherina Harper."


	4. A New Life to Get Used to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ecatherina formulates a plan to sneak out...

“Ecatherina dear? Are you here?” the king’s voice shook Ecatherina out of her daze and she stepped forward with a calm expression and relaxed posture, despite the fact that she felt like running off into the crowd of lower class citizens clustered outside the palace gates.

Automatically, she found herself surrounded by member of the king’s private guard and she was hustled up the steps of the palace and to where the king was standing. She paused in front of a young girl with a cross expression on her face and smiled at her. Instantly, the child gave a toothy grin.

The newly announced princess was hustled up the stairs and onto the balcony, where she was met with deafening cheers from the people below her.

“May I present, Princess Ecatherina!” boomed the king. Ecatherina fidgeted in her muddy dress and worn out boots.

But then she looked up with a small smile on her face and stepped forward.

“Many of you recognize my face because I grew up in the gutters,” she began in a strong voice. “And as the princess elective, I swear a promise to you that I will make life better for you, the people. My people!” she cried, already having a slew of ideas racing around her head.

The citizens below erupted into loud screams at her promise and Ecatherina waved to them all while the king stood off to one side with a small smile on his face.

After her speech, she was led to a lavish series of rooms, which she was told, was her chambers to live and sleep in.

“Wow,” whispered Ecatherina once she was left alone. She crossed the posh bedroom to peer at a delicate vase on one of two bedside tables, filled with roses and lilies. She stepped away and glanced at an oil painting of black and white kittens. “Everything in this room alone could feed the entire kingdom for ten years!”

A quiet knock at the open door made her whirl around and she had to remind herself not to bring out her dagger. At the door was a young man, a few years older than she, wearing a suit of white and purple.

“Princess Ecatherina?” he asked in a kind voice.

“That’s me,” she confirmed.

“My name is Spencer, princess and I was assigned to be your royal steward,” he informed her with a low bow at the waist. “It is my duty to see that your needs are met.”

Ecatherina was silent as she took him in.

“Perhaps a bath is in order, princess?” Spencer suggested.

“I don’t know when the last time I had a bath was,” she confessed softly, scrubbing at her cheeks with the inside of her wrist. “I mean, I do wash off as much grime as possible whenever I can, but I mostly can’t wash everything off…”

“Very well then,” Spencer said in a polite tone of voice before herding Ecatherina into her en suit bathroom, where he quickly drew a bath and tossed in a bar of soap, which turned the water into bright pink bubbles. He left her to bath in peace, leaving the young assassin to stuff her torn dress and ratty boots behind the toilet.

“I’ll fetch them out later,” she muttered before diving into the swimming pool sized tub.

She was barely even in the tub when she heard a quiet shuffling outside the bathroom door. Ecatherina groaned as she grabbed her knife, which she left nearby just in case.

“Enter!” she called out, hiding the weapon as a twelve year old girl entered the bathroom.

“Hello, your highness, my name is Poppy and I’m to be your maid,” she introduced herself in a flustered rush, curtsying to the newly minted princess elective. “Might I wash your hair?”

“… sure?” Ecatherina said as more of a question and the girl scuttled behind her head and started rummage around the shelved bottles of oils and soap. “Nothing too heavy smelling, if you don’t mind?”

“Yes, your highness,” Poppy apologized meekly, settling on a subtle rose scented wash.

“I love roses,” Ecatherina stated dreamily, closing her eyes and sinking a few inches deeper into the water.

“My mother hand makes all your soaps and lotions herself, your highness,” proudly puffed the girl. “Please dip underwater.”

The assassin did as she was asked, staying underwater a few extra moments before popping back up again.

Poppy handed Ecatherina a bar of rose scented soap, to which the princess automatically began to scrub without any modesty, even standing to get her legs. When she was washing the soap off her body, Poppy gasped, her hand over her mouth.

Ecatherina’s body was blanketed with scars, which varied from knife cuts to stitched up bullet holes. But there was one scar which stood out from the rest- a long, jagged mark, which crossed from her left shoulder, across her back and ending at her right waist. The angle of the angry red divot indicated that it had been deep and had caused damage.

“I acquired this beautiful scar in a fight,” Ecatherina spoke the truth. “It was at night, dark out you see. I thought I’d be smarter than I was and take a shortcut to shelter.” She paused as Poppy handed her a towel and bent over, her dark curls hanging as she wrapped them and stood back up, tossing her makeshift turban up on top of her head.

“What happened?” Poppy whispered softly as she slid a white robe onto Ecatherina’s shoulders and tied the sash for her.

Ecatherina sighed and closed her eyes.

“I didn’t know that a mate of mine had been tailing me to make sure that I got off to shelter alright.” She sighed as she turned to face the fogged up mirror, using her sleeve to wipe away the steam. “He made sure that they wouldn’t dare track down anyone else.” She decided to leave it at that and padded out of the bathroom with Poppy four steps behind.

“Princess, you took a much shorter bath than I anticipated,” Spencer greeted her formally.

“Old habits die hard,” she informed him with a little shrug. “Besides, when I was living on the streets, if you found clean water, you took only your share and left the rest for others.” She chuckled dryly. “I took up most of my washings in Knockturn River.”

The winces of horror on both Spencer’s and Poppy’s face were there. Knockturn River was a waste of sewage and only-God-knows-what.

“Well, you’ll not need worry about when you’ll get to wash next,” Spencer stated through a forced smile.

Ecatherina was silent as she mused this over. This was true for her, but what of other lower class citizens who got their drinking water from Knockturn River? She had been fortunate that the Brotherhood had been able to get their hands on bottles of water, which were a win-win, for when the Brotherhood had gone through six or seven cases, Ecatherina would cart the empty bottles into the city, where she would exchange them for coins. Cases of water were pricey and hard to come by if you were lower class, but Brandan was a master at getting in and out of warehouses undetected, he was there go to whenever they needed something that was out of their price range.

The female assassin had to bite back a grin at the memory of when she asked Brandan if he could steal some tampons for her. He went bright red and told Xavior, who sat the girl down and gave her an awkward talk on how babies were made. Brandan taught her how to steal at that point and from then on, she was in charge of getting her own tampons.

Ecatherina snapped back to where she was when Spencer started talking.

“I do believe that an early dinner and bedtime is to be called for,” he suggested.

Ecatherina agreed and she was dressed for a casual dinner in a light purple knee length dress with white ballet slippers. She insisted that her hair air dry as she sent Spencer out to lead the way to the informal dining room. Poppy followed the princess, maintaining four steps behind.

When they arrived, Spencer disappeared, leaving the princess to seat herself at the massive round oak table. Just seconds after she sat down, a dozen plates appeared from the kitchen and a plate was fixed for her.

The assassin examined her food carefully as she cut a piece of steak and pop it into her mouth.

 _No poison here_ , she decided before taking three or four bites of everything on her plate before ending at an enormous piece of chocolate cake with pale yellow and blue frosting. She only intended to take two bites of the desert only she found that she couldn’t stop eating the sweet delicacy.

“Poppy, are you hungry?” Ecatherina called out, beckoning the shy girl towards her with the promising smell of food. “Do go on now, won’t you?” she gently coaxed the servant girl who devoured the rest of the meal with wild gusto.

“I do apologize for my table manners, your highness,” Poppy apologized with a faint blush on her face as the princess elective offered her a napkin.

“Nonsense. I do believe that I ate like a starved dog!” chuckled the princess, standing to follow Poppy back up to her rooms. “Sorry about not saving you any cake, though.”

Poppy beamed at the princess as they entered the doorway which led into her sitting parlor. Ecatherina darted inside the bathroom and recovered her ratty dress and worn in boots and hid them under her giant of a bed, which was big enough for the entire Brotherhood to fit into and still have a lot of wiggle room. Poppy witnessed this but didn’t say anything, instead informing Ecatherina that she would be sleeping in the attached room specifically for her.

“If you need anything at all, please ring for me,” Poppy told her before turning to leave the princess.

“Poppy,” Ecatherina called out. She hated to do this, but she figured that she could trust the girl. “I need to slip out and visit my old neighborhood. Do you know when the guard changes?”

“Yes, I do,” Poppy said with suspicion in her voice.

“There’s a new mother who I helped a few days ago, I need to make sure that she is doing alight, her and her new babe,” Ecatherina informed her in a soft voice, digging under her bed for her dress and boots.

Poppy’s face softened.

“The guard changes every three hours on the clock,” she informed the assassin, glancing up at the extravagant grandfather clock in her bedroom. “The next change will be in thirty minutes.”

Ecatherina did the math quickly. So if the guard changed every three hours, and if it was close to eight thirty, she could slip out of the palace at nine and would be back in bed a little after midnight, she reckoned.

“Shall I get some bread and blankets together?” Poppy asked with wonder and admiration in her voice.

“Not tonight- I need to test out the guard change and see how much time I have in between,” she informed the girl in a soft voice. Then something occurred to her. “Do you know if anyone checks in here?”

“No I do not,” Poppy answered. “But I can lock the bedroom door- I have the key- and if someone asks, I can tell them that you ordered that no one is to enter while you are asleep.”

Ecatherina chuckled as she handed her dinner dress to the servant girl before pulling on her muddy dress.

“Here,” Poppy handed the princess her head scarf. “Get it muddy- it’ll help disguise you. Besides, I have others I can wear.”

Ecatherina smiled at the child before pulling on her boots.

“Be warned- when I return, I’ll need another bath,” she whispered, heading over to the window. She knew that if she went skipping through the palace dressed like this, she would be dragged back into her rooms and locked up. No, she decided, the best way to sneak in and out would have to be the old fashioned way- by stealth.

“Princess, you can take the servants’ corridors,” Poppy informed the princess. “They are deserted at night.”

“Do they by any chance lead out into the slums?” Ecatherina joked.

“I think there’s a pathway that leads there, only it’s been barricaded years ago,” Poppy told her in a soft voice, excitement shining in her eyes. “I do believe it was how the old prince snuck out of the palace, years ago, to visit his friends in the slums.”

Ecatherina though this new tidbit of information through her mind a few times.

“Do you know if the servant’s corridors are soundproof?” she asked, hoping that maybe…

“Yes, they are,” Poppy whispered. “None of the nobles want to hear any of the servants gossiping and tromping from one chore to the next.”

The curly headed assassin’s mind was whirring as she thought of what she was going to do- it would be risky, but she always enjoyed danger.


	5. Sneaking Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ecatherina and the Brotherhood have a discussion

Ecatherina barely shivered as the icy breeze whipped over her bare shoulders as she casually strolled from the servant’s entrance into the streets. She knew the entire city better than the back of her hand as well as all the shortcuts and alleyways, however, she didn’t feel like taking a chance with any of the dangerous criminals who wandered the streets at this time of night.

 

“Note to self- fetch my jacket,” she muttered as she entered the abandoned apartment complex. She knocked a few times on the seemingly locked door and uttered her password. “Snow bunny” had barely cleared her lips when she was wrenched inside and pulled into a bone crunching hug.

 

“I was worried,” Cole whispered, kissing her girl on the forehead before holding her at arm length to inspect her for any injuries. “You had a washing.”

 

“And I’ll need to take another when I return to the palace,” she informed him in a grim voice. “Wake everyone up- I have news to tell them all.”

 

Within fifteen minutes, the rest of the Brotherhood had been quite rudely shaken awake and were now huddled around the only working heater in the building as Ecatherina recounted her adventure of being declared the princess elective.

 

“You are defiantly not princess material,” spoke up Coopur, his voice sounding harsh with sleepiness.

 

“I know! I’m just as shocked as everyone else in this room are,” she stated, staying by her place under Cole’s arm as Xavior mused over the news in silence.

 

“Well I must say that is an unexpected and dramatic turn of events,” he finally said, his dark eyes flitting between each of his pupils. “Ecatherina, I will place informants inside the palace walls within the week.”

 

“I already know what my first bill is going to cover,” Ecatherina spoke up. “I’m going to cut the upper class’ paycheck by a quarter and use the money to feed and shelter the poor.”

 

“Now let’s stop and think this through, Braids,” Petre said. “Who will you give the money to?”

 

“I don’t trust anyone, so until I do, I will keep the money under lock and key,” she announced. “I will hire house builders from the lower class so that they can work.”

 

The other assassins listened as the girl explained what the bill would cover, nodding and adding in their own thoughts every now and then.

 

Xavior was silent as he listened to his youngest pupil explaining how she was going to make life better for the poorer class before he halted her midsentence.

 

“Ecatherina, you must be very careful,” he began in a quiet voice. “The palace is full of Templars who would like to see the end of the Assassins. Be careful of who you trust.”

 

Ecatherina made a face. “I don’t trust anyone,” she lied from in between her teeth.


	6. Another Bath for the Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ecatherina returns to her bedroom.

Sneaking back inside the palace was a challenge, however Ecatherina enjoyed testing out the guard’s weaknesses. She slipped behind them rotating and tiptoes past them yawning, thinking of their warm beds until she came to her window. She glanced around before pulling Poppy’s head scarf tighter and expertly scaling the wall and coming to the balcony right outside her bedroom. She tapped on the window lightly and gazed around herself, in awe of the palace at nighttime.

 

“It’s so peaceful,” murmured the assassin before the doors were unlocked to show a sleepy Poppy.

 

“Were you waiting outside for long?” she asked through a heavy yawn.

 

“Only a minute,” answered the princess, kicking off her boots outside to not trail mud inside.

 

“I fell asleep on your bed,” apologized the young girl, hurrying to draw a bath for her mistress. “It’s so soft.”

 

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Ecatherina said as she let the bulging backpack slide off her back and land on the floor of the bathroom with a soft _WHUMP_. “Poppy, do you mind not touching my bag? I went by my campway and packed up everything- there are some dangerous weapons that could seriously injure you if you try to handle them.”

 

“Yes, princess.” Poppy went back to her task at filling the tub and tossed in a packet of rose scented bubbles before retreating to a corner of the room, ready to offer assistant if Ecatherina should ask for it.

 

“What time is it?” asked Ecatherina as she shed her

 

Poppy glanced at the clock in the bedroom before answering, “It’s 12:49, your highness.”

 

“What time do I need to be up at?” she wondered, ducking her head underwater to wet her hair before popping back up. “No thanks, Poppy- I can wash my own hair.”

“At 6:30, on the nose,” the girl told the older girl, handing her a bottle of shampoo. “Will you be alright with under five hours of sleep?”  


“I’ve survived on less sleep,” snorted Ecatherina, ducking underneath the water again to wash her hair. “I’ll be fine, Poppy.”

 

“If you’re certain…” mumbled the maid, handing over conditioner for the princess.

 

“Thank you,” smiled Ecatherina before a sound in the bedroom caught her attention

 

“What was that?” she asked, suddenly aware.

 

“What?” questioned the girl, suddenly frightened.

 

Ecatherina held her finger up to her lips to silent her maid before standing from the tub and wringing out her curls. She froze as the door was nudged open, relaxing as three tiny white fluffballs entered, meowing in delight.

 

“Why, hello there,” murmured Ecatherina in delight as she stepped from the tub and Poppy helped her into a white silk robe. “Where did you three come from?”

 

“The King gave them to me to give to you as a welcome present,” Poppy told her. Ecatherina shot her a look. “He came into the bedroom and I told him that you went on a walk around the palace- you didn’t want people bowing to you and following you around.”

 

Ecatherina sighed.

 

“He’s the king, I couldn’t turn him away!” Poppy defended herself, biting her lip.

 

“No, I’m not mad at you,” Ecatherina soothed the girl, heading into her bedroom to change into something for bed.


	7. Outside the Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ecatherina goes outside the protection of the palace walls

Spencer tutted as he pondered the princess’s request.

 

“You wish to spend the day _outside_ the safety of the palace walls?” he repeated, stressing the word in hopes that the princess would see how dangerous her request was.

 

“That’s what I said,” shrugged Ecatherina, already dressed in plain trousers and a blouse. She wore her trusty boots, which Poppy had cleaned the mud off of, and her Assassin gauntlet, which was hidden underneath the sleeve of her coat.

 

“But princess, the common folks are dangerous riff rafts and cutthroat murderers! You’ll be killed before you even take more than two steps outside the gates!” he protested.

 

Ecatherina sighed as she took out her brass knuckles, being sure to polish them on her shirt where Spencer could see the dried blood that speckled the deadly punching tools before tucking them into the pocket of her coat.

 

“Then I guess I myself am a ‘dangerous riff raft’ and a ‘cutthroat murderer,’” was all that she simply said before brushing past her stuttering steward. “Now, you can either come with me or stay behind. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself just fine.”

 

“Wait!” Spencer called as her hand was on the door to her room. Ecatherina turned to see a flustered Spencer. “At least take two guards with you.”

 

Ecatherina closed her eyes and sighed heavily before pointing out, “The King’s Guardsmen makes everyone nervous. It would be best if only I went out.”

 

Spencer sighed as well, rubbing his forehead at the princess’ stubbornness.

 

“Fine,” he snapped. “But if you get killed, your ghost had better not come and haunt me!”

 

“No promises,” grinned Ecatherina before vanishing out the door. Spencer hurried to say something else to her, only by the time he reached the hallway, the princess was nowhere in sight.

 

“I do hope that the king doesn’t hang me for this,” muttered the nervous man.

 

~xoXox~

 

“Open the gates!” ordered Ecatherina, nodding at the guards who were in charge of opening and closing the gates.

 

“It’s the princess!” cried one, hurrying to do as ordered. The other followed suit, both standing at attention with their fists over their hearts.

 

“Thank you!” the princess called out to them as she went through the now opened gates and entered poverty.

 

Loud cries of “It’s the princess!” and “Here comes the princess!” followed her as she greeted the faces that she grew up knowing with sandwiches of meat and cheese and words of kindness. All around her, she saw eyes widened in disbelief as she made her way around the city, popping into shops to chat with owners and their families and play with the children.

 

Ecatherina was playing a game of Ring around the Rosies with a small cluster of girls when two of the King’s Guardsmen came riding up.

 

“Ring-a-round the rosie,  
A pocket full of posies,  
Ashes! Ashes!  
We all fall down!”

 

Ecatherina fell down, along with the girls, shrieking loudly with giggles before jumping back up.

 

“Tiptoe!” cried the princess before the game resumed again.

 

“Tiptoe around the rosie,  
A pocket full of posies,  
Ashes! Ashes!  
We all fall down!”

 

“Princess!” called a guard, catching her attention. Ecatherina glanced over before saying something to the six girls, causing for all of them to give her a giant hug.

 

“How might I help you gentlemen?” Ecatherina called out, jogging over to them. She had long since shed her jacket and rolled up her shirtsleeves, displaying her simple bracer with the hidden blade.

 

One guard opened his mouth, but was interrupted by a little boy running up to Ecatherina and tugging at her shirt.

 

“Why, hello there!” Ecatherina greeted him, kneeling down so that she was at eye level with him.

 

“Please princess, my mother’s went into labor and we have no money for a midwife!” he pleaded, wiping his tears away with a grimy hand.

 

The princess’s expression hardened and she stood.

 

“Lead the way,” she told him, taking off after the boy with the two guards close on her heels. When they reached the rundown shack, Ecatherina turned to one of the guards. “Please go into market and bring me wood for a fire, fresh water, and linin bandages. Hurry on, now!” the guard rushed off, not wanting to disobey the princess’s orders. “You stay out here, unless I call for you. Understand?”

 

“Yes, your highness,” answered the man as she went inside.


	8. Returning to the Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ecatherina returns to the palace and meets with the king

Assassin at Heart  
I do not own Assassin’s Creed.  
SUMMARY:  
“This country was once the greatest in the world. Now, it’s a crumbling, decaying wasteland ran by the corrupted.”  
As the youngest member and only girl within the elite Brotherhood of the Assassin, Ecatherina Harper takes her missions very seriously. So when fate’s bolt strikes her, she finds herself selected as the princess elective, the assassin quickly finds herself being swept up into delicate political matters while trying to decipher who is to be trusted… and who she should assassinated.

“Begging your pardon, princess, but wherever did you learn how to be a midwife?” asked one of the stony faced guards as they escorted Ecatherina back to the palace.

“You learn these things when you’re a gutter rat,” she answered in a casual voice, pausing to hand a little girl the last of her food. Gutter rat was the term for children who lived on the streets without parents, their only income was either selling their bodies or working in a factory.

“I was one of the lucky ones- I found refugee with a group of others, all who took me in and taught me tools of the trade so that I might be able to survive on the streets, should worse come to wear,” she continued on in a sober voice. “I took on whatever jobs I could- sweeping out shops after they closed for fresh bread, delivering messages across town for a new shirt, watching after little ones to learn my numbers and letters…”

Ecatherina stopped talking as they reentered the courtyard of the palace, wordlessly thanking the guards with a two fingered salute before entering the grand structure. Immediately, she was swarmed by servants, all seemingly pulling her in every which direction for something or other.

“One at a time, please.” Those the polite order was said in almost a whisper, everyone heard it.

“Begging your pardon, princess, but the king needs to know about your knowledge of etiquette for proper princess lessons,” said a plump maid with a smile, curtsying to her.

“And the master of ceremonies wishes to speak with you about your role as the princess elective,” chimed in another maid, this one tall and slender.

“Also, the royal hunter wishes to know if you ride, and if you don’t, would you be willing to learn?” butted in a young teenager with acne and crooked teeth.

Ecatherina listened to everything that everyone rattled off at her, fixing everything into her memory before asking to be taken to the king.

“Dressed like a commoner?” sniffed one of the maids, looking at the princess with a critical eye.

“I don’t want to keep him waiting,” she answered smoothly before following a maid who looked to be Spencer’s and Poppy’s mother.

“I’m Lily, your highness, I’m in charge of making sure that you don’t get too terribly turned about,” she told the princess as they went up a tall flight of stairs. “I’ll have a well detailed map delivered to your rooms later on today so that way you can go about your day without ending where you don’t want to be.”

Ecatherina was silent as she took in the beauty and luxury of the decorated palace, committing each and every turn to her memory as she followed the maid towards a corner of the palace that she didn’t even know existed.

“This is the west wing on the third floor,” explained the slightly puffing maid. “It’s where the king’s study and library is located. No one else is allowed up here unless he requests it.”

“Will you get into any trouble just for being up here?” asked Ecatherina fearfully.

“No, my dear, he asked me to show you to and from his study today,” she answered before knocking on a door.

“Enter,” called out the king. Ecatherina smiled kindly at the maid before opening the door and entering.

“You wanted to see me, your majesty?” she asked in a clear voice, curtsying as he turned from his desk.

“Yes my dear, come in,” he invited her with a kind smile. Ecatherina quickly scanned the room for any threats and escape routes, an old habit that Xavior had drilled into her before facing the king. “Parliament has given me a list of things that you need to work on before your crowning ceremony, which takes place in three months.”

“Such as?” she asked, fearing the concerns that he would present to her.

“I seemed to have mislocated the list they sent me,” he coyly told her, his eyes flickering over to the fireplace, where a piece of parchment shriveled and turned to ash, making the princess grin. “Can you dance any?”

“I know the dances that everyone does for May Day, the Harvest Week and Winter Solicits,” she answered, wondering where he was going with his question.

“But do you know how to waltz?” he pressed her.

Ecatherina pursed her lips. There had been a night when she couldn’t sleep, so she had snuck out of the abandoned apartment complex where she lived with her other Assassin brothers and had wandered through the streets until she had reached the palace, where there had been a ball in full swing. She had watched through the windows as women dressed in glittering ball gowns and men wearing smart jackets had danced together. The steps had seemed simple enough that she had quickly memorized the foot patterns before stealing away into the night.

“I know only the basics,” she answered, earning an approving hum from the king.

“That’s a start,” he mumbled to himself before the window shattered.


	9. Rebels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ecatherina in caught in an invasion by rebels

Ecatherina yelped and poised herself for an attack only to be met with tin cans flying through the windows and into the office.

 

“What the buggering hell…?” she muttered before the cans exploded with a quiet _pop_ and smoke began to fill the room.

 

“Run!” yelled the king, knocking his chair down in his haste to stand. “Get out!”

 

Ecatherina snapped back to reality and hurried towards the door, her lungs filling with the poisonous fumes. She kicked open the door, mentally apologizing to the king as she grabbed onto his arm and yanked him out of the office.

 

The hallway was total chaos. Servants ran past, screaming and crying as Ecatherina grabbed one and demanded to know what was going on.

 

“Rebels are attacking the palace!” he gasped before running off along with the other servants.

 

Ecatherina felt her face pale. Everyone knew of the North rebels and the South rebels. The North just ransacked, she’d noticed throughout the years, while the South just murdered.

 

Ecatherina ran in the opposite direction that the servants were running, ignoring cries of “No!” and “Your highness!” until she reached a doorway that was straining to remain shut despite the shuddering pounding coming from the other side. She slowed to a walk as she positioned herself about ten feet away from the door and waited.

 

**_ CRACK!!! _ **

 

The door was splintered open, allowing three rebels dressed in red and green to enter. Ecatherina waited, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet until they noticed her.

 

 _Damn the South_ , growled the princess elective mentally as one tried to spike her skull in. she sidestepped the attack and broke his nose with the heel of her palm, sending the cartilage of his nose into the brain. He died immediately.

 

The other two rebels came at her without thinking and Ecatherina used one’s momentum to send the other crashing into a nearby suit of armor before snapping his neck. She glanced over at the door and saw that there were no other rebels entering.

 

She whipped her head back at the one who was trying to remove himself from the armor as quietly as possible before being seized by the collar of his shirt and meeting the princess’s eyes.

 

“I have questions, and you will answer them,” she growled. He grinned, his teeth crooked and yellow before stabbing a needle into his arm. He choked, his airways constricting until he died, his face blue.

 

“Go to hell,” muttered the princess, dropping the limp body amongst the fallen armor and turning to leave the west wing. She froze as footsteps pounded outside the splintered door and groaned.

 

“Really?” she muttered before positioning herself for another attack. She relaxed as a young man wearing a blue tunic and holding a sword climbed through the broken door.

 

“Are you injured, miss?” he asked her, resheathing his blade and walking up to her. He looked her over, making the princess think that she got blood on her.

 

“I’m fine,” she answered shortly. “Despite the fact that I took care of three Southern rebels all by myself.”

 

The man walked over to the rebel that had committed suicide and pulled off a button from his jacket, revealing a pin hole camera.

 

“It was giving a live feed that was being programmed for all the televisions in the country to view, regardless of what channel it was on or if the television was on or off,” he explained to the princess.

 

“So everyone saw me…?” she asked, cursing her stupidity.

 

“Kill these three?” he finished her sentence for her. “Yes.” He saw the look on her face and mistook it for remorse. “Don’t feel guilty for killing them. If not them then you, or someone else.”

 

Ecatherina snorted.

 

“You’ll have a hard time whacking me off,” she informed him with a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “I hate to burst your bubble.” She turned to walk off, pausing when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “May I help you?”

 

“Please, allow me to escort you to the hospital wing,” he begged her. “I noticed scars on your arms- are they from self harm?”

 

“No,” Ecatherina answered him as she fell into step with him. “I’m- or at least I was- a gutter rat, orphaned at the tender age of four. I’m sixteen now, in case you were wondering about my age any. I got the scars from various fights- I did need to survive.”

 

“Fighting dens?” he asked her out of the corner of his mouth. She remained silent, not certain if she should trust him with anything, and he chuckled at her uncertainty. “Don’t worry- I frequent fighting dens myself whenever I’m feeling under pressure.”

 

“How do you know that I won’t tattle on you?” she asked him rather suspiciously as they began to go up another flight of stairs. Ecatherina ignored his offer to help her and jogged up the steps. “Come on, slowpoke turtle!”

 

“Well for one thing, I have diplomatic immunity,” he answered her question, speeding up to catch up with her. “And for another thing, fighting dens are legal in my country.”

 

“I still don’t trust you,” she grunted as the doors to the hospital wings came into view. They were wide open, allowing for the two to get a glimpse at all the chaos taking place inside. There were many people getting small wounds disinfected and wrapped up and the six healers were looking very overwhelmed.

 

“Your highness! Are you alright?” cried one of the healers, rushing over to them.

 

“I’m fine,” both Ecatherina and the mysterious man said at the same time. Ecatherina looked at him.

 

“I’m sorry for not introducing myself to you,” he smiled as he swept himself into a bow. “Prince Christopher of Denmark.”

 

Ecatherina swept herself into an awkward curtsy.

 

“Ecatherina Harper,” she introduced herself with a smile.

 

“The princess elect,” he breathed quietly to himself.

 

“That’s me,” she confirmed with a nod of her head, folding her arms in front of her chest.

 

“Well…” he trailed off awkwardly as Poppy ran over to the princess, wrapping her arms around her legs and leaning into her body.

 

“Mama died,” she sniffled.

 

“Oh, Poppy…” Ecatherina knelt next to the girl and wrapped her arms around the sobbing child’s body. Spencer appeared just them, his jacket stained with blood. One eye was swollen shut and his forehead had a short row of marching stitches.

 

“Mom distracted them long enough for Poppy and I to get a safe distance away, your highness,” he explained, his voice haggard and tired. “Poppy saw the entire thing as I carried her away.”

 

“Poppy, Spencer, I am so sorry,” she told them. “I lost my parents too, when I was four. To Southern rebels.”

 

Poppy quieted down upon hearing the princess speak, her brown eyes wide as the realization that the princess had been an orphan hit her.

 

“Where did you live?” Poppy asked Ecatherina.

 

“I lived with people who trained me to be my best self,” she answered as vaguely as possible, trying to sound like she wasn’t hiding anything from the seven year old child. “Listen to me, both of you. Take the trauma of what happened and use the memory to strengthen you and build you up. Can you do that for me?”

 

“I’ll try,” sniffled Poppy, burying her face into the princess’ shoulder and wrapping her arms around her neck.

 

“Good girl,” Ecatherina murmured softly, hoisting the sniffling girl into her arms and hugging her gently. “Spencer, why don’t you go and rest? You look near ready to topple over.”

 

“I think I’ll go do that…” The princess’ manservant hobbled away, having clearly injured one of his legs.

 

“Forgive me for interrupting, but maybe the little one should get some sleep, too,” piped in Prince Christopher, having listened in on the conversation.

 

“I can’t sleep- all I see if mama,” the girl whimpered, a fresh wave of tears leaking from her eyes.

 

Ecatherina sat down on the floor, her back up next to a wall as she gently rubbed the distressed girl’s back. Christopher knelt next to the sixteen year old princess, his hand on the child’s shoulder as she sought comfort in her time of despair.

 

“It’s like something that Rian- a friend of mine- once told me,” Ecatherina explained in a soothing voice. “In order to heal, you first must be broken.  The pain of losing your mother will dullen over time, but it will always be there, much like a crack in a dinner plate- does that make sense?”

 

Little Poppy was near sleep as she nodded, her eyes shut and a peaceful smile on her face.


End file.
